


Notes on the Courting of an Arsonist

by Katyakora



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: And a little scared, Confident Ray Palmer, M/M, Mick Rory is Confused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-31 00:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12665022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katyakora/pseuds/Katyakora
Summary: Mick was not the kind of person that people like Ray Palmer hit on, so his resulting confusion in the face of Ray’s advances was somewhat understandable.





	Notes on the Courting of an Arsonist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coldflashwavebaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldflashwavebaby/gifts), [Beware_The_Ravenstag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beware_The_Ravenstag/gifts).



> Saw a post asking for more stories about confident-pursuer Ray and confused-and-concerned Mick. So this happened.
> 
> Also, full disclosure, it has been a long time since I saw 'The House of Flying Daggers', I mostly just remember it was a romantic martial arts movie.

Initial Observations

 

Mick was comfortable with the fact that he was a type. He knew that the people who hit on him were usually looking to piss somebody else off or because they wanted to take a step on the wild side with a bad boy just to say they had. More importantly, he knew that the people who flirted with him were looking for one thing, and that thing was not long term. And Mick was okay with that, he had come to terms with it a long time ago. He had fire and he had his criminal partner/best friend, that was all he needed. No one had to know that he sometimes daydreamed wistfully about being held, of being able to come home to someone. But he knew early on that that just wasn’t in the cards for him, so he let himself be happy with quick and casual.

 

In short, Mick was not the kind of person that people like Ray Palmer hit on.

 

Ray wasn’t the kind of guy who did casual. He was the type of guy people settled down with after they were done getting their thrills with guys like Mick. Ray was all about sweet, romantic gestures, big and small, and commitment was practically his middle name. These were things Mick had little to no experience with. So his resulting confusion in the face of Ray’s advances was somewhat understandable.

 

Attempt #4

Compliments and Encouragement to Show Interest

 

“Wow, you look really good in that suit.”

 

Mick paused in front of the replicator, his hands subconsciously rising to straighten the jacket he’d been buttoning. Tonight, Mick, Sara and Zari were running recon to find an anachronism at some fancy party, and that meant dressing up to blend in. He glanced at Ray, who was leaning in the doorway watching him with an expression Mick couldn’t decipher. It made him feel oddly nervous and self-conscious.

 

“Don’t gotta patronise me, Haircut,” Mick grunted, focusing on his cufflinks so he didn’t have to look at Ray and his strange expression. “I know what I look like in this monkey suit.”

 

“Darn fine is how you look,” Ray countered earnestly. Mick felt his face warming at the compliment. “Don’t patronise yourself.”

 

“Uh…” Mick floundered, side-eyeing Ray a little as he looped his tie around his neck. The distracting ball of nerves he’d been feeling since Ray’s unexpected compliment had his hands fumbling a little and Ray pushed off the doorframe to walk over.

 

“Here, let me help,” Ray insisted, gently pulling the fabric from Mick’s hands. The touch of his hands against Mick’s skin felt hot like fire brands and he fought not to shiver at the touch. At the back of his mind, Mick couldn’t figure out what the hell was wrong with him. This was just Ray; dorky, nerdy Haircut who got excited about stealing a handful of jelly beans. And yet, with a compliment, an intense look and a swagger, he’d somehow thrown Mick completely off-kilter in a way he wasn’t used to. He swallowed against his suddenly dry throat. It didn’t help that Ray was absently biting his lower lip as he concentrated and Mick couldn’t seem to focus on anything else.

 

“There,” Ray murmured, smoothing the tie down against Mick’s chest. Mick wondered if he could feel Mick’s thunderous heartbeat beneath his palm. “Now, you’re perfect.”

 

If Mick’s face had been warm before, it was blazing now.

 

“Uh...thanks,” he grunted, completely lost and hoping that was an appropriate response.

 

“Did you shave?” Ray asked out of nowhere, running a thumb along Mick’s jawline in a move so unfamiliar and jarring that Mick could do nothing but freeze under the touch, his eyes wide. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the scruff, but when you shave it really highlights your bone structure.” Ray gave Mick a smile that made heat curl around the ball of nerves in his gut. “It’s very handsome.”

 

Mick’s brain finally caught up and he grabbed the hand that was still running a distracting thumb along his jaw.

 

“Blondie put you up to this, didn’t she?” he accused, scowling.

 

“No?” Ray denied, losing a little of the towering confidence he’d been carrying.

 

“Pretty, then.”

 

“Nobody put me up to anything? Put me up to what, exactly?” Ray sounded genuinely confused and Mick felt a twinge of guilt for having assumed the worst of him. But that still didn’t explain why Ray was acting so weirdly towards him all of a sudden. Belatedly, Mick realised he was still hold Ray’s hand and dropped it like a hot coal.

 

“Nothing, never mind,” he deflected hastily. He pushed past Ray to head for the door, determined to put some distance between them so he could think properly.

 

“Oh, okay. Well, good luck on your mission!” Ray called after him. Mick was halfway down the hallway when he realised he had to turn back. His stomach twisted itself into knots and his heart thudded as he stomped back towards the replicator room.

 

“Forgot my hat,” he muttered, avoiding meeting Ray’s eyes. Ray just smiled brightly at him and picked the hat up out of the replicator and held it out in offering. Mick shuffled further into the room to practically snatch the accesory out of Ray’s hands so he could return to his hasty retreat.

 

“Knock ‘em dead, Tiger,” Ray said just as he turned around. Mick was glad he had already turned around so that Ray couldn't see the effect his words had had on him. He quickly made his escape, leaving a thoughtful and mildly frustrated Ray in his wake.

 

Attempt #7

Casual Date Activities Tailored to Both of Your Interests

 

“Oh, hey Mick! I was just about to come looking for you!” Ray greeted Mick brightly from behind the kitchen counter.

 

“What for?” Mick asked absently as he headed for the food replicator, largely ignoring the floury mess Ray had made of the kitchen bench.

 

“I'm making donuts and I wanted to know what your favourite toppings were?”

 

Mick turned away from his fabricating beer to confirm that, yes, Ray had indeed produced what appeared to be donuts in their pre-cooked form.

 

“Nice,” he rumbled happily. Replicated food was palatable enough, but they all agreed handmade food just always seemed to taste better. “Got any hot fudge sauce? Real whipped cream?”

 

Ray’s smile broadened. “I do indeed have some freshly whipped cream. And I have all the ingredients to make fudge sauce. Stick around and you can be my taste-tester.”

 

“Don't mind if I do,” Mick said happily as he parked himself on a stool, practically salivating at the thought of fresh donuts and handmade hot fudge sauce. He sipped his beer, idly watching Ray go about putting the donuts in the deep-fryer. Ray kept stealing glances at him as he started on the fudge sauce, getting a pleased little smile every time he confirmed that Mick was still there. Mick didn't pay it much mind, focusing instead on the rich, chocolaty smell beginning to permeate the kitchen and the simple pleasure of easy camaraderie.

 

Before long, Ray was dipping a finger into the fresh sauce to taste it.

 

“Thought I was meant to be the taste-tester, Haircut?” Mick cut in before he could, mostly teasing. Ray smirked at him in a way that inexplicably made Mick's pulse jump.

 

“True, that was the deal.” He held out his hand, offering the chocolate-coated digit. “Be my guest.”

 

Mick frowned down at the offering. It was almost like Ray wanted him to...no, there was no way Ray actually wanted Mick to lick his finger. Ray was just having one of his moments where he did something dumb just because he hadn't stopped to think about it. Rolling his eyes at Ray’s obliviousness, he ran a finger along Ray’s, scooping up as much of the thick sauce as he could before putting it in his mouth. Ray frowned a little at first but then his face went a little slack as Mick hummed his approval at the taste.

 

“Mmm, nice. Put extra chocolate in, didn't you?”

 

“Uh, y-yeah, you like it?” Ray stuttered. Mick figured he'd just been nervous about the sauce.

 

“Mmm,” Mick hummed his agreement, regretting that the bowl was slightly too far away for him to swipe more.

 

That thought completely left Mick's brain when Ray decided to clean off the sauce Mick hadn't managed to scoop off his finger by sucking it off unnecessarily slowly.

 

“You're right, that is good,” Ray said almost impishly, his tongue darting out to lick up the last stray splashes at the base of his finger.

 

“Uh...yeah,” Mick managed to say, a little mesmerized, “real good.”

 

A ding behind Ray heralded the donuts and Ray rushed to get them out and drained and coated in cinnamon sugar. This gave Mick time to gather his thoughts and mentally berate himself over getting distracted by his oblivious and unattainable teammate.

 

“Hey, now that these are done, you wanna watch a movie with me?” Ray asked out of nowhere as he plated up the donuts and pulled the cream out of the fridge. “I've been meaning to rewatch 'The House of Flying Daggers’ again and I know you like martial arts movies.”

 

“Sure,” Mick agreed, his eyes on the tasty treats that Ray seemed to be keeping purposefully just out of reach.

 

“Great! Grab the sauce, I’ve already got everything set up.”

 

Shrugging, Mick picked up the bowl, stealing another fingerful of the delicious sauce as he followed Ray down the hall. Ray led him to the library, where a couch had materialised facing the large monitor on the wall. Oddly, every other chair that usually occupied the room seemed to be missing. Mick figured someone was just using them elsewhere and dropped down onto the middle of the couch, deliberately taking up as much space as possible just to annoy Ray. Ray finished placing his burden down on the desk and turned to see Mick splayed over most of the couch, but all he did was look at him fondly.

 

“You know that if you take up most of the couch, I'm just gonna have to sit on you, right?” Ray pointed out, standing over him with his hands on his hips.

 

“No, you won't,” Mick stated confidently, calling his bluff.

 

So he was very surprised when turned out not to be a bluff at all and Ray settled down onto the couch sideways; his long, lean legs draped across Mick’s lap. Mick felt a blanket of heat settle over him that wasn't entirely due to Ray's body heat. He’d been about to shove Ray’s legs off of him when Ray plucked the donuts off the desk and settled them on his knees, preventing Mick’s plans of dislodging him without sending the snacks all over the floor. He conceded in favour of snatching up a donut, smothering it in sauce and cream and shoving it in his mouth, a nice distraction from the hot ball of nerves doing flips in his stomach.

 

He attempted to ignore Ray’s unprecedented proximity by focusing on the movie. It started off kind of weird with some blind chick doing a song and dance, but it got to the action pretty quickly after that. The romantic subplot turning out to be the main plot was a bit of a surprise, but the fights were still awesome so Mick stayed invested right up until the final standoff. He was so invested that it wasn’t until Ray gasped at something onscreen that Mick noticed the way they had drifted closer as they’d been watching until Ray was practically in his lap, curled up under the arm Mick had slung over the back of the couch. Ray’s head was resting on the curve of Mick’s shoulder, his floppy brown locks just brushing Mick’s collarbone.

 

Mick froze, wracking his brain trying to figure out if this was normal behaviour, Ray behaviour, or something else. Mick hadn’t had a lot of close friends over the years and the only one who he’d ever been comfortable with physical contact with was Snart. Unfortunately, Snart had a tendency to lounge on just about anything if it stayed still long enough, so he wasn’t a particularly good baseline for appropriate friendly physical contact. If it were anyone else, Mick might have thought there were some decidedly more than friendly intentions behind the contact, but this was Ray; there was no way he was putting moves on _Mick_. Ray was just a tactile guy, he probably snuggled with everyone he watched movies with. With that conclusion, Mick relaxed, allowing himself to enjoy the contact while it lasted.

 

He relaxed so much, in fact, that when the movie finished, Ray turned his head to say something, only to stall when he saw Mick sound asleep. Ray sighed, smiling fondly at the sleeping thief before extricating himself from his side to go in search of a blanket.

 

Attempt #11

Displays of Strength and Assets

 

Over the last few days, Ray seemed to have become allergic to shirts, Mick mused. Case in point, he was currently lounging in the cargo bay watching Ray do some maintenance on his suit, his shirt removed to serve as a cleaning rag, leaving Ray’s muscular torso to become smeared with oil, grease and lubricant. Mick couldn’t actually remember what he’d come down here for, but he was perfectly content to remain under the pretext of keeping Ray company while he chattered away happily about some feature or other of his suit.

 

This wasn’t the first time this had happened. It seemed that every time Mick ran into Ray these last couple of days, he had been in some state of undress, having either just showered or being halfway through a work-out. Just that morning, Mick had walked into the kitchen at the same time as Sara to find Ray cheerfully flipping pancakes in just a pair of pajama pants. Strangely, Sara had stopped and sighed, giving Mick a look as though she blamed him for this, and disappeared after swiping an apple off the bench. Mick had no idea why she seemed to be under the impression that Mick could somehow control how much clothing Ray wore at any given time, but maybe she was just annoyed at how Mick encouraged it by blatantly enjoying the view. He was not above taking advantage of Ray’s obliviousness and he knew that Ray wasn’t doing it on purpose. Although, it was a little strange that it was happening a lot more lately. Then again, there seemed to be something wrong with the air conditioning lately; it seemed to be a perpetual few degrees warmer than it was set to and Mick himself had ditched his usual jacket and gloves and opted for his thinnest henley. Mick had complained to Gideon, who’d informed him her systems were working as intended. When he’d complained to Jax, the mechanic had just rolled his eyes and told him to ask Ray about it. Oh, yeah, that’s why Mick came down here.

 

Ray stepped back from his workbench with a satisfied smile, stretching his cramped muscles with a deep groan in a way that managed to put the whole of his toned frame on display. He took his discarded shirt and wiped away the sweat gathered on his chest, succeeding mostly in smearing more grease over his pecs. He glanced up, catching Mick's staring.

 

“Enjoying yourself there?” Ray asked cheekily with a smirk, gesturing vaguely in the direction of where Mick was lounging across several crates.

 

“Crates are comfier than they look,” Mick responded with a shrug. Ray huffed out a breath in amusement and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of stomping feet.

 

“Ray!” Zari snapped as she laid eyes on him. She paused in the doorway, taking a deep breath that was clearly meant to be calming. “Look, I don't give a shit about whatever it is you’re up to, it's none of my business.” She raised one threatening finger. “Or it wasn't, until you messed with the goddamn AC!” she hissed. “Fix it, NOW, or I’ll make it so you never have a hot shower on this ship ever again!” With that threat, she turned on her heel and stormed out.

 

“Ah,” Ray murmured, clearly a little embarrassed, “I should probably go fix the AC.”

 

Mick just watched him go with a chuckle, wondering what experiment of Ray’s could have possibly wrecked the air conditioning beyond the combined skills of Jax and Zari.

 

Attempt #14

Celebrating the Holidays Together

 

When they had landed in February 14th, 1991, Mick had known at the back of his mind that there was something that usually happened on this date, but he didn't care enough to recall. Not until he walked into his quarters to find Ray awaiting for him, a bright red box in his hands. That wasn't particularly strange in and of itself. What was strange were the candles flickering on various surfaces around the room and the soft music that was playing from Gideon's speakers.

 

“Hi,” Ray greeted him brightly with his ever-present smile.

 

“What are you doing?” Mick asked, looking around in confusion. He’d meant to ask ‘ what are you doing here’, but seeing as he’d just noticed that Axel had a large bow tied around his middle that he was furiously gnawing at in his cage, next to a large bouquet of red and orange flowers, asking what was going on seemed more appropriate.

 

“Well, I guess I’m here to make a declaration,” Ray answered, taking a small step forward. “I hope it's not too much, because at first Nate told me I was being too forward, but Amaya just told me I'm being too subtle, which is weird because subtlety isn't usually my strong suit.” Ray paused in his rambling to gauge Mick’s reaction. Mick was pretty sure he just looked very confused, although he'd been told on many occasions that his confused face just made him look super pissed, which confusion tended to lead to anyway, so it was really up to Ray's interpretation.

 

“So this,” Ray soldiered on, gesturing to the candlelit room around them, “is me attempting to be halfway between forward and subtle. And the timing seemed appropriate, so,” he held out the small box, “this is for you.”

 

At this point, Mick became very aware that his heart was racing, putting a slight tremor in his hands which gingerly accepted the box with all the care of a live explosive. He untied the ribbon holding it together and slowly lifted the lid.

 

The chocolates weren't a surprise. They were fancy ones too, fresh and not fabricated. What was a surprise was the red card nestled on top of them. Five silver block letters were printed across it, asking a deceptively simple question. He stared down at it, his ears ringing with the pounding of his pulse. Across from him, Ray was practically bouncing in anticipation of his answer, but Mick could only stare, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. The longer he remained still, Ray’s smile began to dim.

 

“Mick?” he asked tentatively. “You...don’t feel, like, pressured, or anything, okay? And if I’ve misinterpreted, well, everything, that’s okay too, just let me know and I’ll back off and you can forget this ever happened.”

 

“If this is a joke I will fucking incinerate you,” Mick growled without looking up, steadfastly ignoring the slight crack in his voice.

 

“I, what? No! Of course not! I would never joke about this!” Ray spluttered, looking honestly aghast. Which made sense, Ray was the last person Mick would ever expect to see playing with people’s hearts just to be cruel. But this whole situation still seemed far too good to be true.

 

“So, you,” he said slowly, frowning at Ray and pointing a finger at him, “want...me?” The finger turned back to point at himself, an incredulous lilt to his voice.

 

Ray’s soft smile returned. “Yeah,” he confirmed simply, as if it made all the sense in the world, which as far as Mick was concerned it absolutely did not. Never mind the fact that Ray’s response had made his heart skip a beat.

 

“Me?” he repeated with emphasis, just to be sure. Ray’s smile widened in amusement as he nodded.

 

“Why?” Mick demanded incredulously.

 

Ray’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Huh, I guess Amaya was right,” he muttered to himself before looking Mick in the eye to answer seriously. “Well, I guess there’s a lot of reasons. Besides the obvious, you’re always there for me when I really need you.” He chuckled fondly. “Even if you’re not happy about it, I know you’ll always watch my back. When I was drifting, you gave me a purpose, helped me remember that I was more than just my suit. You try to convince us all you don’t really care but I know that you do the sweetest things when you think no one’s paying attention. I get so lost in my own head sometimes, but then you’ll speak and suddenly everything is so much simpler. So, yeah,” Ray finished, scratching the back of his head self-consciously. “That’s why.”

 

Mick just stared at him for a long moment, his eyes wide and a ruddy blush warming his cheeks. He tried to fully process everything Ray had just said, but his brain seemed to stutter and trip over the depth of feeling in Ray’s confession.

 

“What’s, uh, what’s the obvious?” he asked finally.

 

“Oh,” Ray answered, “that I think you’re funny, smarter than you pretend to be and find you incredibly attractive.”

 

“Oh good, that I can make sense of.”

 

“It doesn’t make sense that I’m interested in you but it does make sense that I think you’re hot?” Ray clarified, apparently amused by the idea.

 

“Exactly,” Mick confirmed, entirely serious.

 

“Well, if you give me a chance, there’ll be plenty of time for me to help you figure it out,” Ray pointed out. He rocked on his heels. “So, you got an answer for me yet?”

 

Mick glanced back down at the box he’d forgotten he was holding, and the innocuous little card resting on top of the chocolates. His lips twitched towards the semblance of a smile as he read it again, a giddy bubble of happiness and excitement swelling in his chest as he accepted the reality of the situation, even if he didn’t quite understand how this was possibly happening to him. He plucked one of the chocolates from the box and popped it in his mouth, delighted to find it was just as delicious as it looked. Definitely not cheap candy.

 

“You know,” he said slowly, taking a small amount of pleasure in dragging this out, “no one, in forty years, has ever asked me to be their Valentine before.”

 

“That’s because none of them ever figured out what I did,” Ray responded confidently.

 

“And what’s that?”

 

“That you’re a secret romantic.”

 

“You take that back!” Mick snapped, scowling and hating how flustered he felt at the thought that Ray paid that much attention to him that he noticed the little things Mick had spent much of his life hiding.

 

“Nope,” Ray popped flippantly, stepping into Mick’s space to steal one of his chocolates. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

 

The confidant grin, the little swagger, the way Ray looked at Mick like he tasted better than the chocolates, all combined together to grind Mick’s thoughts to a halt. Thankfully, a speechless Mick was prone to action, and know he knew exactly what Ray was after. He gripped Ray’s shirt and pulled him in to kiss him soundly. Ray let out a surprised ‘oomph’ as they made contact, Mick a little rougher than intended in his nervous state, but Ray swiftly got with the program, kissing back with gusto. He blindly pulled the forgotten box out of Mick’s hands and set it on nearest flat surface, freeing them both up to press as close as possible and get their hands on each other. Ray’s lips were just as soft as they looked, and Mick could feel his happy grin to match the satisfied sound he made as their chests pressed together. Ray deepened the kiss and all Mick could focus on was how he tasted like chocolate and he smelled like expensive aftershave. That just served to remind him how much effort Ray had put in just for him, with the candles and the flowers and the chocolate, and all the other things he’d been doing recently that Mick now recognised for the romantic overtures that they were. It made his stomach flip and the fingers fisted in Ray’s shirt clenched tighter. No matter what Ray might say about it later, he was absolutely not swooning, dammit! He barely noticed Ray shuffling him backwards until his back hit the door and all of Ray was pressed up against all of him, making his interest very much known.

 

Okay, maybe he swooned just a little.

 

_Elsewhere on the ship…_

 

“I still don’t understand this game. We’re racing, but we’re also fighting?” Amaya grumbled as she alternated between peering intently at the screen and looking back down at the controller.

 

“We’re fighting, you keep forgetting you have weapons,” Zari corrected absently as she left a banana peel right in Nate’s way.

 

“Dammit!” The historian yelled as he veered off-course.

 

“Power-ups,” Jax corrected vehemently, his tongue sticking out slightly as he fought to remain neck and neck with Sara, who was grinning like a maniac as she blocked his every attempt to pass.

 

“And how can a mushroom even drive a car?”

 

“Don’t overthink it, Miss Jiwe, the premise is indeed ridiculous,” Stein mollified her gently from the corner where he was reading, drinking tea and ostensibly ignoring the rather cut-throat Mario Kart tournament they were having.

 

“Attention, everyone,” Gideon chimed, pausing the game for them, “I thought you would like to be made aware that the betting pool now has an official winner.”

 

“What? Who?” Nate demanded at the same time as Sara, Zari and Jax’s relieved chorus of “Finally!”

 

“Professor Stein is the winner. Congratulations Martin, I have already taken the liberty of removing you from the chore roster for the next month.”

 

“While I’m hardly complaining, Gideon, I don’t recall joining in on this ridiculous betting pool,” Martin pointed out over his teammates varying noises of disappointment.

 

“Actually, when asked for your estimate for how many attempts Dr Palmer would need, you stated that the only way he would succeed was if he ‘spelled it out’. Which he did. Literally,” Gideon argued cheerfully. “Additionally, none of you had selected fourteen.”

 

“Ha! I was closest with sixteen!” Sara crowed happily. “In your face, Heywood!”

 

“Well, excuse me for having faith in my bro,” Nate muttered sourly. “Guess I’ll just have to settle for kicking your ass at Mario Kart!” Abruptly, he unpaused the game, cackling over their cries as he whizzed past them all.

 

Much later, Ray and Mick strolled into the kitchen for dinner to a round of applause. Wisely, no one commented on the fact that Mick was blushing heartily as he gave them all the finger.

**Author's Note:**

> The entire team were totally wingmanning for Ray behind the scenes.
> 
> Also, I recognise that the wording is ambiguous but I couldn't figure out how to fix it, so I just want to clarify that Ray is licking his own finger, not Mick's.


End file.
